Ruff!
by Pikeru's Angel
Summary: A beagle, a golden lab and a bulldog end up in a room with each other. Where's the punch line?


The room was empty. Of people, anyway. It was plain, with white walls and a grey carpet. There were three large, plush chairs. Each, once again, empty of people. The room wasn't empty though. On each chair was a dog. A bulldog, a golden lab, and a beagle. The bulldog lounged on the first of the three chairs, nearest the door, with his head lolled to one side. The lab sat in the second, on the far side of the wall. His posture was primp and proper, head held almost regally. The beagle was in the third chair, adjacent from the lab. His tail wagged lazily as he scratched behind his ear.

"Oh yeah? I can beat that. My owner deliberately poisons me to see how I react!" The bulldog said triumphantly, sure he had topped the beagles horror story of his first owner.

"Really? Mm hmm. My current accidentally sent me to sub-space for six months!" The beagle retorted, smiling cockily, sure he had one.

"Mine just calls me a good boy when I steal food off his plate." The lab shrugged. The other two stared at him in awe.

"Nice, Statchmo." Said the beagle. The bulldog nodded in agreement with the statement.

"Oh please, Porthos, call me Statch. It's what everyone calls me at the dog park." The lab said, flicking his paw dismissively.

"What's a dog park?" Asked the bulldog, rolling over and cocking his head to one side.

"Where you take your owner so they can socialize." Porthos replied. "Seriously, Gladstone? You've never been to one?"

The Gladstone looked up, chuckling to himself. "I should take my owners there. They never leave the house unless their "exchanging" me." Porthos laughed, though Statch looked confused.

"Exchange?"

"They have joint custody, whatever that is. Ever since my first owner moved in with this with this other person, I get to stay at each house. One week Holmes gets me one week Watson. Very fun, actually." He paused, looking thoughtful. "It would actually be Holmes I need to take to the dog park. Watson goes out often enough, I suppose. Holmes just stays holed up in his room with the curtains closed."

"Curtains?" Porthos said.

"You know, those thinks like the blankets on their beds only in front of the windows?" Statch replied. Porthos nodded.

"Oh yeah, I get what your talking about." He said, really not getting it.

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation, and Statchmo finally lied down on his chair.

Finally, not being able to stand the silence (which was why he loved it when his master took him down to Engineering: it was never quiet down there), Porthos spoke.

Scratching his ear again, he looked over to Gladstone. "Whatdya think our humans are talking about? Why does it itch so much?" He howled, ignoring how much his ear hurt and focusing on how much it itched.

Gladstone shrugged. "Human stuff. And maybe because my owner got to you? That happened to me once. Watson had to give me this special cream… It tasted good!" He licked his lips, remembering that taste. Statch raised an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know?" He questioned.

"No."

{][][}

Now, you may be asking yourself how this happened. Well let me tell you, it's confusing as all hell.

Okay, not really.

Three people, all walking their dogs, happened to be in the exact same place. Not at the exact same time, but at the exact same spot in New York City.

These three people were all from different time periods. The first from the twenty-third century, the second from the twenty-first, and the third from the nineteenth. It was the exact same time in each place (nine thirty-three in the morning). The place cannot be disclosed because, in each time period, it is a classified crime scene that Starfleet, the FBI, and the police (plus on Sherlock Holmes) are investigating. Until each individual investigation was complete, the area remains classified to the general public and readers.

Each of these three people were walking dogs. A beagle, a golden lab and a bulldog. Where's the punch line?

Here it is.

Because of their place, time and odd links, these three people were transported to a limbo of sorts. The mysterious being that did so -mostly for his own amusement- was Q. But no one would discover him until Jean-Luc Picard's time, so we'll ignore the Q factor.

So, because of one Q's boredom, we are where we are. In two blank rooms, each with three chairs, only connected by a door.

Oh, and the dogs got the ability to talk.

{][][}

**A/N: I am going to have way too much fun with this. Agreed? Agreed. Ideas welcome!**


End file.
